Complicated
by sharingank
Summary: He held her a bit too long, a bit too tight....HaruhiMori oneshot.


Well all, this is my very first attempt at an Ouran fic. And it is HaruhiMori. Why, you ask? Because HaruhiMori is my OTP. No. Contest. (Not that I don't like Tamaki or anything. I love that little blighter. Hehehe). Hope I didn't botch the characterizations _too_ horridly...

* * *

**Complicated**

* * *

"Kasan." 

"Mm?" Kyoya barely glanced up at Tamaki over his notebook, which he was busily scribbling away in.

The blonde "king" of the Host Club leaned forward, gripping the armrests of his chair. "Have you noticed that Haruhi seems…" he paused, fishing for the correct word "…_distracted_ today?" He chewed on his bottom lip, bright blue eyes shining with something akin to extreme distress. "What if a disaster happened at home? What if her father lost his job and now they're destitute and living off the streets and pillaging in dumpsters and—"

"I'd advise you to keep your voice down, tousan," Kyoya replied absently. "Think of Haruhi's debt. We have valuables in here, and it would be a shame if she broke anything else because your careless remarks offended her."

Tamaki, about to make a retort, clamped his mouth shut, and peered nervously over his shoulder. The object of his scrutiny sat in the middle of a cluster of chittering girls, a blank look on her face. She smiled and nodded at all the appropriate places, voicing a comment or two when necessary, but she clearly wasn't her normal self, of that Tamaki was certain.

His grip on the armrests became a shade less than violent. "You're so cruel, kasan," he whined. "I'm concerned about my dear little dau—"

Kyoya's hand shot out quicker than a lash, effectively cutting short Tamaki's statement. "Caution, tousan. Remember the patrons." He removed his hand and went back to his previous task…whatever that was. Plotting another moneymaking scheme, no doubt.

And all Tamaki could do was make a few squeaking noises before he huddled down and muttered to himself about the injustices of the world and his best friend's apparent callousness.

Reclining on a plush red couch nearby, Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged significant looks, both wearing identical smirks.

"Tono's clueless," said Hikaru.

"Pathetic, really," said Kaoru.

The pair of young ladies who normally requested the twins' company raised expectant brows.

Ever alert, Hikaru moved in for the kill. "Haruhi would come to _me_ with a problem, not _him_. I'm an excellent listener, and I know how to keep secrets."

Taking his brother's lead, Kaoru summoned up some tears and said, "I see. You're so skilled at keeping secrets that you keep them from me too, don't you, Hikaru?" He turned his face away. "We're supposed to tell each other everything, or have you forgotten that already?"

The instigator of the duo, Hikaru grabbed Kaoru's arm and yanked the other boy into a fierce embrace. "I'd never forget, Kaoru," he said, voice thick with emotion. "No secret is great enough for me to hide from you."

"Hikaru!"

"Kaoru!"

Their besotted customers clung together and squealed.

Meanwhile, Hunny, oblivious, sat at a table across the Third Music Room, happily eating his cake and just being cute in general, like usual. Also like usual, his stoic cousin occupied the seat next to him, content to listen to the conversation without contributing to it. Mori was a man of few words by nature, and he only spoke when he deemed it absolutely imperative—most often to appease Hunny's volatile temper or to make an observation.

And he was doing a bit of observing now. Tamaki was not the only one to believe that Haruhi was in a funk.

His brow wrinkled. From what he knew of her, he understood that she didn't like getting others involved with her problems. In that sense, they were very much the same. Mori didn't hesitate to help someone if asked, but he rarely asked for help in return, and neither did Haruhi.

He wondered what could be troubling her.

"Takashi?"

Mori started briefly, and then gained control of himself. Hunny and the rest of the table's occupants stared at him.

"What's the matter, Takashi?" Hunny inquired, head tilted to the side. He had a streak of vanilla frosting on his chin. "Do you want some cake?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Mitsukuni. Use your napkin."

Hunny blinked. "Eh?"

Hmm. He should probably pay more attention to what was going on around him, or another episode such as this would occur.

Besides, Haruhi could take care of herself. She didn't need him to worry about her, even if he _was_ mildly apprehensive.

Taking Hunny's chin between his fingers, Mori wiped the frosting off, eliciting a series of delighted exclamations from their clients.

Back to business…

* * *

"Poor thing. You must've had a long night, Haruhi-kun." 

"Were you studying for exams?"

Haruhi set her cup of instant coffee on the saucer, and it connected with a loud 'clink.' She grimaced and replied, "Yes. I don't think I fell asleep until four."

Which was true. She _had _been studying for most of the evening…or trying to, at least. Her grades were important to her, certainly—they were the reason she was enrolled at Ouran High School in the first place. There was no way in hell she'd be able to afford tuition without scholarships, as she was reminded almost daily by the garish displays of wealth—and complete lack of knowledge concerning "commoner" ways—exhibited by her fellow students.

Oh, sure, it pissed her off sometimes, but she had been fortunate with the friends she made here—purely by accident. They all accepted her in their own rights, and she was learning the ins and outs of the Host Club and its members as she went.

Each one had a specific stereotype they played to perfection...but that's all they were doing. Playing. Putting on a show. Raking in the money.

Kyoya, the calculating one, always had an ulterior motive for whatever he did. He was responsible for the Club's funds, and she had come to the conclusion that he was scarily efficient at his job.

Tamaki was a charmer. And an unmitigated ass on top of it. From the day they met, he had somehow gotten it through his head to appoint himself as her "father"—never mind that her biological father was still alive and kicking—and she had yet to decide how she felt about it. Tamaki had a good heart, though, even if his possessiveness was exasperating.

The twins were troublemakers, and they knew it. Hikaru and Kaoru took an unwholesome joy in teasing and flirting with her, and every now and then, they managed to get her flustered. She and the twins had a special sort of relationship, however, since she was the first person to successfully tell them apart. That, and they were in the same class, so she saw more of them than any of the others.

Hunny had the adorable act down to a science. He referred to everyone by childish nicknames (hers was "Haru-chan"), carried around a stuffed bunny, ate tons of sweets, and took frequent naps. The oldest member of the Host Club, he didn't look a day over seven. And he was the middle school karate and judo champion. Go figure.

And Mori…

Mori was her problem.

Mori was part of the reason she suffered a spell of insomnia last night.

Stupid. Haruhi wasn't your average girl. She didn't swoon over the Host Club's theatrics. On the contrary. She thought the whole idea was silly. But she had a debt to repay, and these guys _were_ her friends.

Fine. She could deal with that. Dressing up in boy's clothes didn't bother her—it bothered Tamaki and the twins more than it did her—and neither did engaging in idle chatter with the girls she deceived.

Haruhi hadn't entered Ouran searching for complications. She intended to study hard, pass her tests, and graduate in one piece, and if she had to do it alone, okay. She did a lot of things alone. Her mother died when Haruhi was young, so she took it upon herself to do all of the housekeeping and grocery shopping.

She was independent and self-sufficient. No need of a boyfriend…

Not that she thought of Mori in that light.

Out of any of them, Tamaki fit the bill better than Mori, regardless of her preferences.

Whatever her preferences were.

Mori was tall. He had dark hair, dark eyes. He was intensely loyal to Hunny. He didn't speak often.

He could pick her up as if she weighted no more than a bag of flour. He'd done it before. Numerous times.

Yesterday.

Although he didn't pick her up then. He caught her.

That's what threw her off balance.

* * *

"Perfect," Kaoru said. 

"Enhances all the curves, no?" Hikaru said slyly.

Tamaki gaped, skin flushed redder than a ripe tomato. Words escaped him, apparently, because he allowed Hikaru's comment to slide.

Haruhi rolled her eyes. "It's just a dress," she said, plucking at the frills about the collar. "And it's not practical for a picnic. I'd rather wear shorts and a shirt—"

"NO!" Tamaki, Hikaru, and Kaoru declared in unison.

"You look so cute, Haruhi," Hikaru said enthusiastically.

"Very cute," Kaoru agreed, equally fervent. "Yellow is a fabulous color on you."

They both took a step closer.

Haruhi took a step back. The crazed gleam in their eyes made her antsy.

"Daddy will be happy if you wear the dress, Haruhi," Tamaki said, having recovered from the initial shock. He joined the twins as they advanced. "Why don't you want to be feminine? You _are_ a girl."

Haruhi took another few steps back. Bad news. All three of them were on her now, and her chances of escape were dwindling fast.

She _really_ didn't want to wear the dress. It itched, the collar was tight, the puffy sleeves were annoying, and the skirt was short enough that she'd have to wear stockings beneath it. Yuck.

"We're going on a _picnic_," she said. "Not to the opera—"

"That isn't an opera dress," Kaoru informed her.

"Oh heavens no," Hikaru said, wrinkling his nose. "An opera dress is slinkier. More elegant." His grin was demonic. "Nice try."

Haruhi clenched her jaw. _Damn rich bastards…_

The lunatics continued forward, determined to box her in, and Haruhi stepped back again.

"Look, Takashi! I taught my rabbit to dance!"

Hunny.

Which meant he and Mori were occupied. And Kyoya wouldn't jump to her aid. No benefit for him.

She'd have to run.

Steeling herself, she took one final step—

"AIEEE!"

—and slipped.

Tamaki's jaw dropped in abject horror, eyes bugging out of his head. Hikaru and Kaoru cried "HARUHI!" simultaneously and made to go after her, but Mori beat them to it.

Haruhi gasped. She had expected a jarring impact when she hit the ground, except she _didn't _hit the ground.

Mori did.

With Haruhi clutched securely in his arms.

A tense hush descended upon the Third Music Room. Nobody breathed. Nobody moved.

Haruhi's gaze locked with Mori's, and two tiny spots of color flared on her cheeks.

"Mitsukuni dropped his rabbit," Mori explained eventually, tone flat, neutral. "You tripped over it."

Haruhi blinked. "Oh. Um. Thank you, Mori-sempai." She couldn't think of anything else to say. She felt dizzy. She didn't recall ever feeling this dizzy… And why _should_ she feel dizzy? It was _Mori_. Just Mori.

And he hadn't released her yet.

"Be careful next time, Haruhi," he said, and rose, setting her gently on her feet.

A hubbub erupted then, her friends swarming her—all except for Kyoya and Mori—and fussing incessantly. Hunny's high-pitched apologies rang through room, and Haruhi was forced to kneel and envelop him in a hug before he was convinced she forgave him. She hardly reacted when Tamaki crushed her to his chest and petted her hair as if she were a dog because her head was someplace else altogether.

Mori had held her a bit too long, a bit too tight.

He had held her the way she'd seen him hold Hunny. Protectively.

He had held her like it would cause him pain to let her go.

She wasn't ready for that. Tamaki's embraces were different. She didn't take them seriously because she'd been exposed to them from the beginning. Hikaru and Karou's were playful. Hunny's were precocious.

Nothing like this.

What the hell was she supposed to think? What was she supposed to do?

Haruhi _hated _dresses. Period.

* * *

"Four? That's awful!" 

Haruhi sighed, picked up her coffee, sipped. She'd need another cup soon if she wanted to stay awake. "I'll manage," she said, smiling, and then shifted the topic away from herself. "What about you? There are exams coming up for your year as well, correct?"

The three girls flanking her launched into a discussion about their classes, and Haruhi listened with one ear, a trick she had perfected recently, while her thoughts roamed.

Yes, she didn't want complications, but she had one, and she couldn't wish it away, nor could she pretend she was ignorant of its existence.

What would Tamaki do if he knew? 

Redundant.

She knew exactly what he'd do.

He'd pitch a hissy fit and slink off to a corner to sulk.

Her lips quirked.

So predictable… 

But she supposed his predictability made him endearing, the idiot.

Her eyes flicked to the left, and met with Mori's.

They gazed at one another for a moment, and then he smiled. A genuine smile.

Haruhi smiled back.

She was dizzy.

* * *

Mori realized quite suddenly that she had a pretty smile. It reached her eyes, made them dance. 

And now that he'd seen it, he could stop worrying.

But he'd prefer to see her smile like that all the time.


End file.
